


In The Mouth of Madness

by mothraisnotapokemon



Series: In The Mouth Of Madness [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: based on movie In the Mouth of Madness i need a beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:44:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5298752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothraisnotapokemon/pseuds/mothraisnotapokemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sutter Cane went missing, insurance investigator Derek Hale, the best in the business -his boss even gave him a cup that says so- investigated the claim with Cane's assistant Stiles.  Derek believed it to be a hoax, all in the name of a publicity stunt.  Only now it's 6 months later, he's missing four months time, dealt with what he had hoped were hallucinations, killed someone and is watching the world fall apart all from a cozy padded cell in Eichen House while Deaton listens to Derek's story, what everyone is claiming is a mental break down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Doctor Visit

AN: I stumbled upon Teen Wolf and then decided why the heck not. Plus the girls name was Stiles how could it not happen. 

 

In The Mouth of Madness  
Part 1 of 4

Doctor Alan Deaton was used to being called in for the high risk and profile patients of Eichen House. This time it was different, one of his most dear and respected colleges had called him, frantic about the state of her son. He remembered Derek, he was a quiet boy lived in his head but was harmless and last time he had checked was an insurance investigator for some large firm in New York. 

Talia had been frantic, faxing and emailing him everything that her own private investigator and Ms. Martin had been able to pull together. The worst were Derek’s notes they went from understandable to mere scribbles and frantic writing of one name, Sutter Cane, that name had been scribbled frantically, repeatedly, in the last entry of Derek’s notes. 

The court appointed doctor had written that Derek had suffered a break down; he was no longer able to tell the difference between the real world and the fictional world created in those books. 

It was late when Deaton had arrived; with the riots and the rising in the numbers of murders and suicide, traffic had been almost at a standstill as emergency vehicles sped past. Many of his colleges were joking that it was the strange phases of the moon; so far no one knew why it still hung full and red. 

Parking his car, Deaton took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare himself. Ms. Martin wanted him to convince Derek to claim it was stress and maybe some lingering unaddressed trauma from that scandal with the Agents, but, to Deaton it was the very public committed murder and Derek’s own testimony that was damning. Even having Derek brought to Eichen House to be Deaton’s patient, had been difficult almost impossible with the influence of both himself and the Hales. 

Grabbing his files, he exited his car, mentally preparing himself for the longest one sided conversation he might need to have before Derek opened up. 

Once he entered the building, an orderly that he had never noticed before was approaching him. 

“Doctor Deaton, I have been expecting you.” The orderly greeted as he walked towards the doctor with a wide smile and almost strangely bright amber eyes. “You’re here to see Derek? It’s a shame about what happened to him, never would have guessed, I mean sure he can be all caveman and creepy but to kill someone like he did.” 

Deaton opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off while following the chatty orderly. 

“It’s a shame, cause he is hot. Not that I’m checking him out, but he is, and then since he’s been here he doesn’t really talk to anyone but me, and has taken to drawing on the walls and himself. But he’s not much of an artist, it’s like playing Pictionary with a kindergartner that’s using his mouth and sometimes his feet to draw, but don’t tell him I said that, he’s sensitive sometimes, attacked one of the orderly’s yesterday. No one really liked Brunski anyway, but he was clawing and biting at him, he’s in intensive care, Brunski not Derek…so that’s why he’s wearing the jacket now…..but Dr. Fenris was busy and then called away, just answered his cell phone this morning and then left, so that’s why I’m greeting you and not him. But he did want to see you, said I was to escort you, make sure that you got to Derek” The orderly took a deep breath and let it slowly out before smiling again at Deaton and then escorting him out of the elevator. 

Deaton blinked, as he processed all the information, he was about to ask the orderly something when he was interrupted again and gently guided into the now open door of the 5th floor wing, a key card now in his hand. 

“Third door on the right, it’s all set up for you, a desk and a chair. Just don’t touch Derek’s crayon or criticize his drawings. He's a little sensitive right now, you think he'd been betrayed or something. So.... so then, I’m going to wait here for you. Derek likes his privacy and I can’t be quiet to save my life and I think he wants you to hear it all from him, so I’ll be here, waiting at this door, for you.”  
....

It was a quiet night, nothing really out of the ordinary as Deaton made his way to the cell, and without trouble he entered the room, noticing the writing and holy symbols on the wall and the crosses that now decorated the stoic face of Derek Hale. 

“Hello Derek.” Deaton began. 

Derek glared at him, and then at the door, as if waiting and looking for something or someone, Deaton was tempted to ask if it was the chatty orderly Derek was searching for. 

“I’m not crazy.” Derek stated. 

“You murdered a man in front of a bookstore, there are witnesses to it.” Deaton reminded, he had promised Talia he would help Derek, she couldn’t believe her son was capable of this; he was more of the quiet stalking obsessive type not the murdering in public. No one had found the weapon, and some of the witness seemed crazy themselves when they described what Derek had turned into. 

“I had to do it.” Derek stated, his eyes staring into Deaton’s, “I tried to stop it, I had to, it was my fault.”

“Stop what Derek?” Deaton asked, he had read all the documents provided to him and Derek’s confession at the station, but even Sheriff Stilinski was thinking the man was insane, especially when he mentioned Gemin.

The sheriff’s son had disappeared when he was barely seven years old, went out into the woods to play with his best friend and then both were gone. There had been searches, suspects and their pictures been on nearly all news outlets, the then deputy's son and the son of a FBI agent didn't just disappear, but nothing was ever found.

Hearing from Derek that his son was possessed by a demonic fox spirit, who had seduced, manipulated and then mated himself to Derek, well there could be a case against the Sheriff but Derek didn’t have any signs of the beating he had received from the Sheriff, well the beating Talia and the photo’s Ms. Martin had taken claimed. Derek aside from the markings on his face had no bruises, broken bones or cuts.

It seemed that nothing was matching up and that was irking to the Doctor. It could be a simple case of mass hysteria, delayed trauma had caused Derek to merely have a break down. It wouldn’t be unheard of, several people had been suffering from them lately, screaming about monsters and demons, loved ones being devoured before their very eyes. The Riots, murders and suicides that usually coincided with a release of a book or movie based on a book by Cane, were worse this time, it was the last book after all, the final one. 

Sighing Deaton leaned back into the chair that had been provided for him, and began spreading out his files, making it easier for himself and Derek. What he really wanted to know was what happened in those 4 months that Derek had been missing in. Laura had informed him of her last conversation with her brother. Claiming that he had been at some motel with his assistant, someone that once this was over he was going to bring home with him. It had been confusing for Laura since Derek had seemed to put off anything that wasn’t work or forced family time. What had really gotten her attention was when Derek had told her, Stiles would need to become a patient of Deaton that Derek was going to devote his time for Stiles care. That had been the last call, and then Derek went over the time table he had given Laura, and had seemed to disappear. 

He understood that Derek was a runner, but he had always contacted his family made them aware of where he was, this time there was nothing until he was found in the preserve. 

Found howling, dirty and naked in the preserve. 

Then 3 days later he had apparently turned into a giant monster and killed that young man. 

Derek stared at him and then snarled, his eyes going back to the door. 

.....Six months previously.......

Derek Hale was good at his job. 

Well he was one of the best in his field, on his desk sat the mug his boss brought him, the words - number 1 insurance investigator in the world - printed on it in nice bold lettering. He is and was several times in a row employee of the month. His colleges liked him, his boss adored him, he had a nice apartment, fancy car and separation from his family, and he couldn’t help but feel accomplished. 

His mother always bragged about him, her successful son living in New York. His sister visited him every chance she had, staying in the second bedroom of his apartment. Laura might not understand his work sometimes but she listened attentively none the less. 

He was on the phone with her as he waited for his take out order. 

“The man really gave his wife’s jewelry to the mistress?” Laura asked him. Derek smiled noticing one of the waitresses redden as she stared at him. 

“His wife confessed everything, even gave us the dates. Once she saw those pictures it was over, and I closed my case, no pay out for him” Derek concluded.

Laura laughed. The waitress walked over to him, placing a large drink in front of him, he guessed it was tea from what it smelled like. 

“On the house.” She whispered to him, winking before walking away from him. A little more sway to her hips as she did. 

“Mom wants to know if I can go up there next week, says she’s in need of some down time with the easier siblings and members of our family.” He could hear the slight pleading tone in her voice, he felt like a monster when he knew he’d have to tell her no. 

“I have a new case, its high profile and to be given my full attention. I’ll be out of town for awhile on this one. The payout for this one is in the high millions, but with the attention that comes from this client, we all want to be sure it’s exactly what their claiming it to be. When I get back you can stay for a month if you want.” Derek explained looking out towards one of the windows in the front of the restaurant when he noticed everyone’s attention going towards them. 

“I have to call you back.” Derek hung up rising from his seat as he watched the man with the ax making his way towards the Chinese restaurant; the man seemed to be staring directly at him. 

.....Present time......

Deaton remembered that, it had been on the news. The unknown man had broken the window of the Chinese restaurant, charging in screaming about the end, the renewal of the darkness and a hellhound, the messenger who was to usher everyone to their destruction. He had been shot to death by the police in the restaurant, maybe less than 5 feet from where Derek had stood. 

That unknown man, who had latter been identified confidentially to Deaton as Jackson Whitmore. He had been a proof reader for Beacon Hills Publishing; been moved to edit only Cane’s works at Cane’s own request. 

“In Heather's statement she mentioned that man, was coming towards you screaming.” Deaton stated, showing Derek the statement. 

Derek stared at the statement then returned his gaze back to Deaton, the power flickered putting them in darkness, and Deaton swore Derek’s eyes were red before the lights stabilized again. Deaton blinked and reminded himself that he was tired, and this case was different, it was personal. 

......6 months previously......

He called his sister in the morning, letting her know that he was fine. She had asked him several times in the conversation if he was alright and if he wanted to come home, but he refused. He was fine on his own in his apartment, beside work always distracted him from everything else. 

When they finally hung up he headed to his meeting at Beacon Hills publishing, one of their writers was missing and more importantly the manuscript for his newest and final novel. Derek had spent two days looking up this Sutter Cane, and the effect the books had on the readers, it left him thinking this was a publicity stunt. They probably had Cane holed up in some fancy hotel, and were using this as part of the advertisement campaign. 

He could picture the head line already, "Writer goes missing, private investigators even the insurance ones are called in, where could Sutter Cane be, even worse where is his final novel!!" Derek was going to break this wide open, reveal it for the fraud it was. He just needed to find Sutter Cane. 

He had never been a fan of writers; they had this lost connection with reality that unnerved him. His uncle had been a writer, unpublished but a writer, spending hours locked in his room before he simply disappeared. Said he was going for a walk, and then nothing, spirited away his grandma had whispered, spirited away like those little boys. 

“You should pay attention; someone might think you’re rude.” 

The voice cut through his thoughts he hadn’t realized that he was in the Publishing house, looking at the person who spoke; he was taken aback as he felt like someone shocked him. The young man, early 20's was leaning against a wall by the elevators, simple slacks, white dress shirt and a buttoned vest, with simple black dress shoes. The young man, smiled, it was a wide smile, it took a minute and the pressure of a hand on his chest stopping him that made him realize that he had been approaching the younger male and was well past acceptable personal space. 

“You must be Derek Hale, I was warned about you.” The smile never slipped his face. “Ms. Reyes is waiting for you, and she is not one to make wait.” 

“I’m early.” Derek stated, the younger man had bright eyes, 

“So you are.” 

Derek hadn’t moved, and neither had the hand on his chest, Derek wanted it moved, he didn’t know why, he only wanted to be closer. Derek knew he was scowling, and the unnamed male, who was the rude one since he hadn’t introduced himself, laughed and calmer than anyone in the situation would be lead him to the elevator. 

If Derek had been expecting a quiet elevator ride he was mistaken. The bright eyed male stared at him with a smirk, like he was expecting something. Did he know Derek, did he already guess what was happening or what Derek thought? He felt a slightly cold hand place itself on his wrist. 

“A walking lie detector, you must be very impressive Mr. Hale. You were highly recommended. It seemed it had to be you, and no one else.” 

Derek stared at the hand that rested on his wrist, he couldn’t make out any lie in those words, and all he could hear was an interest that was sparking his own. 

“Ms. Reyes is very excited to meet you; in fact she even assigned you an assistant for this.” 

“Assistant.” 

“Yep. Imagine that, you get your own personal assistant. I already know who it is, would you guess...... it’s me. I get to be all yours.”

“Mine.” 

The elevator door opened and Derek followed his assistant to Ms. Reyes office, no one stopped them or questioned where they needed to be, he didn’t know if it was because of him or his assistant. He was a little annoyed when they reached the oversized office of Ms. Reyes and his assistant released his wrist to move away from him to stand beside her. 

Erica Reyes was a very attractive woman, a powerful woman; with a wave of her hand she dismissed the three in her office. Making a motion with her hand, Derek sat in the plush seat in front of her desk. She sat in her seat after he had, motioning to the large file that was on her desk. 

“Mr. Hale.” 

“Ms. Reyes.” 

“Stutter Cane is very important to our publishing house. He’s one of our best sellers, never missed a deadline, so you can understand how this would upset us, when he is not only behind schedule but suddenly unreachable.” Ms. Reyes began, she looked at his assistant and smiled, it made Derek uncomfortable. 

“Is this a publicity stunt.” Derek asked or told, he had been told more than once he hadn’t mastered the art of making a question sound like a question. 

Ms. Reyes narrowed her eyes. “Stiles.” 

Stiles, his assistant nodded at her. “No, we’ve been trying to keep this quiet, luckily with Mr. Cane being a recluse it’s been a possibility, but with all the preorders, the movie deal and the amount of money we’d lose, not to mention the damage to the company. If it became public, we need that manuscript and Mr. Cane found.” 

Derek stared at him, Stiles; it was either a first or last name. Maybe a nickname, but it was nice. He wasn’t lying when he had answered but it wouldn’t be the first time someone higher up was keeping secrets. 

“Stiles has been Mr. Cane’s assistant since before Mr. Cane was one of our authors, and his contact within the publishing house. He will be helping you, we want our property back Mr. Hale.” Reyes stared at him and he stared right back, he was pleased, with a nod he took the folder on the desk, stood, and found himself smiling slightly as Stiles followed him. 

The walk to the elevators was silent, both just walking close to each other almost shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. It was only after they entered one, and the doors closed that Stiles began talking. 

“Have you ever read any of Mr. Cane’s books?” Stiles asked. “They seem to have this effect on people, makes them go crazy. Nightmares, hallucinations, paranoia and memory loss, all those are side effects to reading his books. Who knew reading could make people crazy.” Stiles laughed at that, then looked at Derek. He seemed to be judging him, before taping a long finger on his chin, “No, I don’t think you’re much of a reader. But I sent the books to your apartment anyway, left my number in the acknowledgements page of the first book. Just in case you needed to reach me. Let me know what the next step is, I’ll be waiting for that call.” 

Stiles looked away from him, Derek couldn’t explain it but he didn’t like being ignored. “It’s a publicity stunt,” Derek began, “He’s somewhere hidden away, just waiting for the signal, give that final farewell.” Stiles was staring at him again, head tilted slightly up and pressed against the wall of the elevator. Derek felt that hand on his chest again. “I will find out the truth.” 

“You have no idea about personal space.” 

........Present time........

“Did you read the books?” Deaton asked. 

Derek stared. He didn’t answer, Deaton knew that he had. He had told Laura on the phone that he had, laughing that he couldn’t understand what was causing people to go insane. Laura had informed him she had only read one book of his the first one and hadn’t even finished it. As they spoke , Derek noticed something as he compared the covers, they had all been drawn by Cane. On each cover was a small incomplete design, it nagged at him. When he had put the covers together, put that design together it had spelled Oak Creek. He had never heard of Oak Creek actually existing but it was always the setting for Cane’s stories. His novels, all his novels took place there. Stiles whom he had called had sleepily informed him that it was based on some small town in California from Cane’s past. 

Deaton was looking at his notes, “Stiles said the books made the readers crazy.”

“I thought it was mass hysteria.” Derek was now glaring at the papers spread out on the table. “I knew about the riots, the hallucinations.... at first I thought I wasn’t affected.” 

“At first?” 

Derek nodded, “Then I was cutting up the covers taping them together, finding the location for Oak Creek, packing my things, loading the car and then going to pick up Stiles.”

Deaton nodded, as he wrote that down in his own notes. He pushed a paper towards Derek; it was the tapped together covers of the book, with the words Oak Creek written over and over on it in black crayon. 

There was no design on it, just the black crayon words overlapping on top of each other. 

 

.............Six months earlier.....................

Derek was knocking more like banging on Stiles apartment- apparently not very sturdy- door, feeling hurried since this wasn’t the worst neighborhood but it wasn’t the greatest either. He could hear Stiles rustling around; hear his footsteps, the sound of his heart. Beating a little faster, the fear that covered his scent, Derek was now rattling the door knob; he wanted in the apartment, he wanted access to Stiles. 

When the door finally opened, Stiles was staring at him. 

“Derek? What are you doing here at 3 in the morning?” His heartbeat was returning to normal, the smell of fear was fading, but the interest and curiosity were present. “How did you even know where I lived, I just gave you my cell….you know what. No I don’t want to know.”

Derek only smiled, then presented him with his findings, feeling pleased that he had discovered where Sutter Cane was. 

Stiles just stared at him, well more like judging him. Which was just rude, since he had just figured all this out, and found a location for Cane and read all the books, he might not remember everything in them but he had read them. Now Stiles was just staring at him and his duct taped on the back pieced together cover from all the books, like they personally offending him. 

“Maybe I should have just printed out the summaries for you.” 

“Oak Creek.” Derek’s answered. 

Stiles still in the doorway and pajamas since it was 3am in the morning hesitantly took the art and craft project from Derek and wondered if it would be rude to slam the door on Derek’s face and then move. 

“Oak Creek.” Stiles repeated, feeling a little freaked out when Derek smiled all bared teeth and wide eyes. 

Derek just stared at him. “It’s the setting for all his stories. Somewhere in California,” Stiles was really considering moving when as Derek spoke he was moving closer to him. He wondered if Derek’s creepiness simply made people want to confess so Derek would simply get away from them. “I can take us there. I already packed, we’ll take my car.” With that Derek was pushing him into his own apartment, closing the door and locking it once both were inside. Stiles only stared at him slacked jawed.


	2. Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It should have taken a little more than 3 days to go from New York to California.

A black Camaro. 

They were driving from New York to California in a Camaro. 

Stiles was going to be alone in the car with Derek Hale, if they didn’t make any stops, for about 3 days. 

He had a feeling Derek was going to be making stops, but this also meant Derek couldn’t just stare at him or try to crowd him into a corner to make that staring easier for himself. He’d just be stuck in the car with Derek instead, and Derek seemed the type to want full control of the door locks. 

The whole following him around his slightly bigger than an efficacy apartment, watching him and helping him pack was traumatic. Stiles sighed and leaned back in the leather seat, this wasn’t any better. 

“You read all his books?” 

Derek hummed in response. 

“The first time I read one, his first book, that one was his worst by the way, I had nightmares for weeks. And you read all of them in two days, all 4 of his novels in two days. Maybe I should drive, I can drive, and I have a license, with a good picture of myself on it. Not many people can say that, because those DMV cameras are hateful things.” 

Derek hummed again in response because he was a creeper with the controls for the door locks. 

“Did you even sleep at all?” 

“We can get a room.” Derek answered, or told, it was hard to tell with him and his limited emotional range and hatred for anything sounding like a question. 

Stiles just stared at Derek; this was the best in the business, the one who had been recommended. This was the chosen one, the giant creeper who had child locked the window and door on the passenger side. Plus Derek was on the huge muscle side, making the car seem even smaller, and had a bad habit of letting one hand drop from the steering wheel and try to pet at him. Stiles had been smacking that hand away from him for a good 2 hours now. Derek was lucky he was pretty because his personality made people want to call the cops. 

“To sleep right, because you’re tired and apparently doing all the driving?” 

Derek was already taking the exit; he just prayed it wasn’t a seedy motel. Or too nice, maybe something in the middle and with two rooms or at least double beds. 

“Double beds Derek.” Stiles demanded when Derek’s hand attempted to pet at his cheek and neck. Derek only hummed in response. 

Stiles was not really surprised when he was left in the locked car, it was a middle price ranged hotel, pulling out his phone he decided to check in. Let people know where he was and who he was with, because he wasn’t going to end up in someone’s basement as a kept doll. When Derek returned he grabbed the bags, all the bags, both his and Derek’s. Then like the creeper he was, herded Stiles into their room, which thankfully had two queen beds. 

Throwing himself onto one he starfished out. It was a comfortable mattress, better than his futon slash sofa one at the apartment. He looked over at Derek who was sitting on the other bed staring at him. Just staring at him. 

"Did you even sleep before our road trip?" Stiles asked. 

"No." Derek answered back still staring. 

"Was it the books? Did they give you nightmares?" 

Derek angled his head a little, like he was thinking of the words that he wanted to say but was having trouble letting them pass his lips. 

"I had nightmares, a lot of them. I kept seeing Gemin, it was like he was accusing me of everything. Like it was all my fault that he was the chosen one, that I was the reason his family was grieving." 

Derek began to remove his shoes, looking up at Stiles on occasion. "It's just a book. There all just books." 

"I know, it's all one big story told in chapters. But that doesn't mean it wasn't scary, the vessel, the hunter, the witches and the skin walkers and then his fourth one, the hunters joining with witches and other supernaturals trying to stop it." stiles counted holding up four fingers and waving them at Derek. "then there's the fifth one, I read part of it, only the beginning but it's the end." 

Derek rolled his eyes. "It is a book." 

Stiles sighed and moved to face away from Derek and aggressively hugging the pillows on the bed. Quietly he listened as Derek apparently changed for bed. 

"We have late check out." that was the last of the actual conversation for the night. The rest was just more Derek being creepy and Stiles losing one of the pillows because Derek was a creeper, who wanted to keep the bathroom light on. Like he didn't care the light was all on Stiles side. After awhile he had drifted off, and there may have been some sneak cuddling, because he swore one side of the bed suddenly dropped, but when Stile woke up he was alone in the bed. 

The bathroom door was closed and the sound of a shower running. Smacking his lips together and nuzzling his pillow Stiles tried to keep himself asleep. But the sudden opening of a door and a wet warm towel being thrown at him was enough to have him spazing out on the bed and throwing the last pillow at his intended target. 

"The shower is still warm." Derek greeted, because good morning and common decency were things that he had not been raised with.  
...... 

In the late afternoon, they were back on the road. Stiles refused to mention how the sleep and the shower were like little miracles that had him feeling relaxed. Because Derek was looking to pleased with himself, and Stiles really didn't want to know. He had a feeling it was just not worth it and continued batting at the same hand that was determined to begin petting him again. 

“I mean the first book was like a fairy tale, two children went out into the woods, the big bad wolf came and scooped them up, one was sacrificed to wake some supernatural creature and the other was used as its vessel. It freaked me out, the gore and the whole wandering the woods thing. How can you not be affected by his stories! And then the second book, about that doomed lady and her vision about the messenger of death. I mean she has these visions, follows all the signs and then when she finally finds the bringer of the end, she tries to kill him. Thinks she can turn herself into a hunter, well I kept the light on at night.”

Derek while amazed that Stiles didn’t need to breathe apparently while speaking, had this nagging feeling that this hoax the publishing house was selling rested on his feeble minded assistant.

“It’s not real Stiles, just stories. You’re scaring yourself.” 

Stiles stared at him and then smiled. “Sure, that’s why the bathroom light had to be kept on last night.” 

Derek said nothing, if that’s what Stiles wanted to believe than more power to him. It had nothing to do with Stiles complaining about Derek and his creeping staring, or that it wasn't cold and Stiles was old enough to sleep by himself, thank you very much. So he had left the bathroom light on, plus it was easier to check on Stiles that way. 

“You just wanted to see me sleeping.” Stiles accused while pushing away Derek’s wandering hand that had finally settled on the back of his neck. 

Derek decided that didn’t need a response, “If this is a publicity stunt, I don’t think you’re involved.” 

Stiles stared at him. “I have been Cane’s personal assistant since like forever, he’s very punctual. Never misses a deadline, sometimes he’s even early. This last book, is the one, the last one, the end, it’s important.” 

“We should eat somewhere.” 

Stiles smiled at him. “As long as that place has curly fries and a good burger,”

They drove for 15 minutes more before taking another exit and stopping at some diner Stiles had found using his phone, claimed it was a must. It was highly recommended online. 

Derek pulled into the parking lot, it seemed nice. Derek waited while Stiles stretched complaining about his tailbone, the lowness of the car and the lack of a radio. 

Stiles entered first, all but running towards a booth in the corner leaving Derek to place the order. It wasn’t empty but it wasn’t full either. 

“Don’t forget the curly fries!!” Stiles reminded him loudly, as if Derek could forget. Rolling his eyes Derek wandered to the counter to place their order and make sure it was done correctly. Derek would kick himself later for not paying attention. 

The woman at the counter smiled at him, it took him a minute before his brain caught up. He knew her, would never forget her, she had seduced him, used him and then tried to kill him and his whole family, calling them monsters, the protectors of those who would end it all. He remembered her screaming that he needed to be killed. 

“Been a long time handsome.” Kate never lost her smile, it was the same one she had when she tried stabbing him with that weird blade. He took a step back. He needed to get Stiles and leave, put as much distance between them and her. 

He didn’t even see her move, but her hand was on his wrist holding him tightly, he didn’t remember her being this strong. 

“You should listen to me Derek, even thank me that I’m going to warn you at all.” Her voice was so loud; he hoped Stiles wasn’t paying attention. He was safer away from them, from her. “I went crazy because of you, because of what you’re going to do. “She pulled him closer till he was leaning over the counter, her mouth right by his ear. “Don’t go to Oak Creek, leave your little fox and run, when you think you’re far enough, kill yourself. It’s the right thing to do; you’re the last book Derek.” 

Derek snarled and shoved her off of him. He took hurried steps back, stopping as she hissed. 

“You’re the reason we’re going to die Derek, it’s your fault.”  
…

It was the sound of a alarm that woke him up. He was in the Camaro not the diner, slumped over in the passenger seat of his car. He looked at Stiles who was humming something under his breath, and turning off the alarm on his phone as he drove. 

“Hey it’s time to switch. Are you still sleepy? I can keep driving, I mean it’s like 5 minutes and then we’re there at the Inn you booked us into.” 

Derek shifted in his seat, he didn’t remember falling asleep or switching places. Stiles just smiled at him grabbing his drink from the cup holder and basically trying to drink it all in one go. 

“We ate.” 

At his question Stiles nodded looking almost confused that Derek was even asking that, before he motioned towards something else in the distance, a sign that clearly said Welcome to Oak Creek. 

“While you were getting your beauty rest, I think it was because of lunch, you ate a lot of carbs too, just knocked you out. I got an interesting text from a Ms. Blake, apparently someone named Derek Hale, that's you, called her to inform her that we’re staying at the Preserve Inn.” He paused to give Derek a quick look. “What kind of name is that, the Preserve Inn, I mean this whole town is surrounded by woods. I swear if we find Gemin and Scotty in the woods I’m going back to New York. I mean, it’s like the carbon copy of the places in the book.” 

“What?” Derek asked grabbing the second drink, it was still full. He didn’t remember stopping, switching places with Stiles or sleeping. Derek stared at his drink, they hadn’t even been driving for a full day, and there was no way they could be in California or Oak Creek. Unless Stiles had drugged him, and this place was somewhere else, part of the hoax. Somewhere just outside of New York, he'd take that publishing house and Sutter Cane for everything they were worth. 

“You didn’t read the books did you, you are such a liar. Like a liar that lies, oh my god!” Stiles whined, like his inability to converse about the books physically hurt him. Derek opened his drink and sniffed it, it was soda, sugary soda. Not the kind he'd drink, more along the lines of Stiles choosing. 

“I read them.” Derek answered. 

Did they tell Stiles to drug him, did he do it on his own, there was no way they could be in California, they had been driving maybe 10 hours total last time he had checked. This place had to be somewhere else, a place dedicated to the books, Sutter Cane's own amusement park.

He had a strong urge to shake Stiles and demand he tell him everything, but it would scare Stiles, and he was already indoctrinated with whatever manipulations Cane had. He'd take him to Deaton, and they would stay with his family, Laura would like him, and after Stiles had recovered from whatever this brainwashing was, they'd go back to New York. Stiles would like the apartment, and if he didn't they could find a new one, or a house. Stiles seemed to like open spaces if his complaining of the interior of the Camaro was anything to go by. 

“Yeah, okay you read them.” 

Stiles continued driving in silence till they reached the inn. 

“Let’s just stay out of the basement.” Stiles whispered as they pulled up to the front of the inn. 

Derek nodded, he didn’t book them reservations, nor had he even till he read the books, ever heard of this Inn. Stiles pulled in and parked, theirs was the only car there. The test customers, Derek rolled his shoulders he could feel the tension. He would see if they had a gym here, he needed to run but didn't trust the area around them. 

The inn was lovely, it screamed wealth and prosperity but hidden in the woods, this was seclusion. To Derek it looked almost like his family’s home. Just change the color scheme on the outside and it was his home. The exact outer cookie cutters match of his family’s home, a home he had all but run from once he was old enough. 

Derek carried in the bags, keeping Stiles on the inside placed between his bulk and the wall. The interior was different, it made him breath easier, but this whole hoax thing was putting him edge and Stiles attempted to take in everything that was there. Trying to push past him, it took effort to keep Stiles placed in that little safety area. Once they left the entrance way there was a counter in a to open space for Derek's liking, Stiles noticed the bell first and wasted no time racing past Derek and then ringing it to the point that Derek felt ashamed of being there but didn’t stop him. 

“You must be the Hale party.” 

Derek closed his eyes as Stiles ran the bell one more time. His feeble minded assistant, who looked ready to try and ring the bell once more, it was adorable and annoying at the same time. he could hear the bell ring again loud and clear, and hear the soft release of a breath, that signaled someone counting. 

“You’re just on time; your room is already prepared, a suite with double beds.” 

Derek could hear as the bell was dragged away, the sound of the metal on the polished wood and the low whine that Stiles released, it almost made Derek drop the bags and reach for the bell that was being dragged away politely from his reach. He looked at the slightly disappointed face of his assistant and mentally rejoiced that Stiles had stopped ringing the bell; only to feel a little irritated he was now openly staring at the woman behind the desk with wide eyes and an open mouth. Derek took the key from her and smiled, the woman brushed her fingers against his. 

“If you need anything, please just let me know.” 

Derek nodded giving her a once over, he liked her voice. It was soothing, familiar and she was attractive. Reminded him of Paige, how she would have looked if she had grown up, if she hadn’t hung herself in his parents cellar. Stiles was still staring at her, and the woman whose name he hadn’t gotten was staring at him, just ignoring the gaping fish look Stile was giving her. 

“Or if you would prefer separate rooms, I can personally show you yours, Mr. Hale.”

Derek couldn't hide the smile at the scandalized sound Stiles let out before trying to push himself between the woman behind the counter and Derek.  
…..

The room was nice, large and as Stiles had all but screamed had a master bathroom with all the trimmings. Having been in that small thing Stiles called an apartment this was like staying in a palace. 

“That was Jennifer Blake; we cannot go into the basement ever, like ever.” At Derek’s confused look, Stiles let out an annoyed whine, “you didn’t read the third book, the one with the massacre of the witches by the skin walkers! She’s the only survivor, her face and body destroyed, cut up like really bad. In her last moments she made a pact with Gemin, he gave her power for her revenge. In order for her not to be recognized Gemin gave her the skin and face of a girl who had been sacrificed to him. She went after the skin walkers, killed them all but kept one alive. In the basement, her torture basement, where she continuously sacrifices that one skin walker, brings it back to life only to do it again. Oh my god Derek didn’t you read it!!” 

“They weren’t all that memorable to me.” 

Stiles let out a whine like his brain just broke, and maybe it had. 

Derek didn’t understand it; the books weren’t all that memorable to him at all. He had read them, but only bits and pieces stayed with him. 

“Oh my god Derek, you are just…just oh my god!!” 

Derek ignored Stiles new rant and just unpacked, if this was Oak Creek than they needed to explore the area, and find out where Stutter Cane was. 

What was getting to him was the time, he had sworn it was late afternoon, but now it was dark outside. Like it was night, pulling his phone out of his pocket it was barely 6. He had no service either. 

He had called Laura when they had been at the motel. Let her know that after this he was retiring, going to start his own private investigation service and adding Stiles as his assistant. He may have also mentioned he was coming back to California for awhile, for Stiles treatment. So she was aware of what was going on. Aware that he was coming back, he had told her two months, he never went over his timetable. 

Stuck in this amusement park, and probably cut off from the world. He needed to be strong for Stiles; this whole place was meant to trick them. Oak Creek didn’t exist; he would make sure that the publishing house got nothing from their claim. He’d call Lydia and take the publishing house for all it was worth. Then put Stiles in counseling with Deaton. 

He looked over to Stiles, who was pressed against a window. 

“We’ll stay in tonight.” Derek couldn’t help but feel irritated at the time change, there was no way it was night. “Tomorrow in the morning” when the sun was out , he moved closer to Stiles, the only thing he could make out was the church, peeking out of the tree line. He pressed himself against his assistants back. “We’ll explore the town.”

Stiles hadn’t moved from the window, didn’t seem even to care that he was being blocked in again. “We should probably make a map of the town and who we will run into. So you can be prepared in case we get separated from each other.” 

It was too dark outside; even the church had seemed to fade away into the night.

“We won’t get separated.” 

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, okay.” 

Derek placed his forehead on Stiles shoulder, turning his head as he was all but pressed against his neck. Stiles smelled nice, familiar. “we won’t, you’re mine remember.” 

Stiles sighed. “One place we can’t go is the church; I can’t go into the church.” 

Derek decided that once they had Sutter Cane and his manuscript he was taking Stiles to Deaton, booking him an appointment and then suing that publishing company. 

“It’s just a book Stiles, it’s not real.” Derek reminded him as he continued to nuzzle his neck. “This, us, we’re real. This is reality, not that book.” Stiles let out another sigh. Like he was explaining something constantly and Derek was the slowest child in the room. 

“Let’s just stay away from the church.” Stiles repeated. 

Derek nodded, leading Stiles from the window and towards the bed away from the door. Tomorrow they’d find Sutter and that manuscript.


	3. All in your head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His grandmother was right, he should have paid more attention. Than maybe things would have been different.

Derek was driving. 

He was in a little bit of a temper, but really he couldn't be blamed. He had been obviously drugged sometime ago, by his easily influenced assistant. Tricked into being a unwilling participant in a hoax and then already arguing with Stiles, again. But he could of sworn that Stiles had been whimpering in his sleep last night. It had woken him from his own sleep and then Stiles was whispering in between those whimpers in what sounded like gibberish to Derek. So he had tried to wake Stiles to only be pulled in onto the bed by the most aggressive little spoon ever, and then clung to. Then he was woken up from his relaxing non drugged sleep by a pillow being slammed into his face. If that wasn't enough Stiles had decided to give him the silent treatment with some avoidance thrown in. 

That had lasted until they went down for breakfast, than Stiles had taken one look at the elderly man cooking breakfast, and clung to Derek whining if he tried to move away. Then Stiles had started complaining about not wanting to be in the Camaro, all but dragging his feet as they walked to that car, and really that adult behavior only had Derek remarking that he was never removing the child locks. He might have punctuated that statement with his display of manhandling Stiles in to the seat and bucking Stiles in, stroking his cheek and then asking if he needed help closing the door. 

Stiles had stared at him opened mouth, before narrowing his eyes and frowning, before proving he was capable of adult behavior-childish temper tantrum- and slammed the passenger door closed as hard as he could. Derek was proud of his reflexes or his fingers might of suffered. 

Really, this was not his fault. 

It was his Camaro after all, and Stiles had a bad developing habit of mistreating his baby, she was a pampered garage queen that was only taken out as his daily driver on the rare occasions. Actually Stiles should be pleased and grateful that he was even in the Camaro, was Stiles impressed no, instead he was complaining about the lowness of the car and why couldn’t he have food in the car. Not that Derek was going to mention they had skipped breakfast because of Stiles, beside it might bring attention that with Stiles irritation Derek could keep one hand on Stiles, so he listened as Stiles reminded him that he hadn’t spilled his drink last time. 

Once they were back on the one main road that the town was built around Stiles was especially observant and quiet. Staring out the window, uncaring of the hand that rested on the back of his neck. 

Before he had arrived at the publishing house he had researched the names in his folder, there was no picture of Sutter Cane, barely even three lines in his bio. Sutter Cane didn’t exist; he was the pseudo name for the actual writer, only Stiles had made contact with him. Stiles was just like Cane, there was little to nothing about them, only that for as long as there had been Stutter Cane there had been Stiles. 

He had every reason to be suspicious, and when he had read the books, the only thing that had struck him was the description of the fox spirit, the one that had possessed Gemin. It had been a perfect descriptor for Stiles, he had imagined it was because the man who was Sutter Cane knew Stiles, and used him as reference for that character. Which would explain why Stiles was keeping a look out for the two boys, he was curious about who was playing book him. 

This was a publicity stunt, all of this. 

Derek didn’t like being used. 

He had at first believed that Stiles wasn’t involved, but after the strange dream and loss of time, he had a suspicion that maybe Stiles was drugging him. He didn’t remember eating or even allowing Stiles to drive. Were they hoping for him to show the same symptoms as others, to show proof that even the great Derek Hale could be a victim? 

“Where are we going, we’re heading out of the main area in the town.” 

The only way he could prove that Stiles had no part in this was to take him to the church, in all the books that place had been abandoned after they found the remains of Scotty in there. No one went there, not even the fox. It was where the hellhounds waited. Stiles seemed terrified of that place, it was cruel in it's own way, but Derek was taking him to that church. Both of them were going to be walking in there. 

“Derek.” 

He continued driving; it hadn’t even been two hours since they left the Inn. They had left at 10 am, it had been a late start, and now it was 12 pm. It seemed the closer he came to that church the darker the day suddenly became. 

“Derek, we need to go back into town.” 

Was it the coffee, the inn had offered a breakfast bar, it was a simple one. There had been a cook there; Stiles had refused to eat anything that the older man had offered to cook. Refusing even to touch the unopened cereal single packages, Derek had decided on getting some eggs, but Stiles seemed to cower remaining placed firmly behind and pressed against Derek. Taking that cue from his assistant he had kept to the coffee, ignoring the smile from the older man. Stiles had mumbled about crazy hunters and a blood bath, but Derek had been distracted. The old man had seemed familiar to him, but concentrating was difficult with Stiles trying to climb and cling to his back like it was the only safety in this whole place. Maybe Derek was, for all he knew Stiles was being forced, tricked by those who were bowing to Cane the whole way. 

“Derek, it’s not safe at night. Derek, we have to go back, please Derek, please we have to go back.”

He continued driving; it wasn’t that he was ignoring Stiles it was just that he needed to think. He had seen cases like this before to take someone simple minded, to make them believe something to the point that it was real to them, even if it didn’t exist. Stiles could be subject zero, see how he reacts, then reveal this place to the public, an amusement park based all on Sutter Cane’s works. He could imagine the brochure, stay at the Inn, visit the house, see the characters, and experience the stories unfolding. Be a part of the story. 

“Derek!!”

Pulling the car over, coming to a rough stop he turned to face Stiles. 

But Stiles wasn’t looking at him he was looking at the church, there just a few feet away was the path to that church. His eyes wide but his lips thinned into a hard pressed line. 

“This place, its part of the fraud Stiles, it’s not real. This is their sandbox, we’re the subject zero, and if Sutter is here he’s going to be in that church. We have to go into that church.”

Stiles still didn’t look at him. 

“Stiles look at me.” Cupping his chin he urged the now shaking boy to stare at him. Once he did Stiles cold hands were gripping his arm. There was something about the look in his eyes, the fear, that made him feel like this was all Derek's fault. Like it was his fault all of this was happening, that if he had just listened to something Stiles wouldn't be afraid. Looking was he was ready to run far away from him. 

“We have to go back, please Derek.” 

.........Present time.........

“Did you go back?” Deaton asked all his notes now spread out on the table before Derek. “In your statement you mentioned a group of children playing by the church, you also mentioned seeing two children being lead into the woods by someone that looked very much like your uncle. Derek, I know you believed yourself to be drugged...”

“It was Peter, he was 20 when he disappeared" grandmother said Peter had been spirited away. Derek realized that his grandmother had said alot of things that now made so much sense. She had quietly told them Peter had been with sprited away with those two boys. That if he ever saw them, he needed to run in the other direction, so he wasn't taken like them. To avoid those with the glowing eyes, he knew he sounded crazy, but it had happened. He could still hear the howls from the children when their eyes met in the rear view mirror, like they were being welcomed home. "Peter was there, taking Gemin and Scotty into the woods. They were holding his hands, just walking with him. It was Peter, he hadn’t aged. He was still the same.” Derek interrupted voice rising in either anger or hysterics. 

“You were 15 when Peter disappeared; Paige had died three days earlier. You were distraught, first Paige’s suicide, the stress of finding her body, and then Peter disappearing. It was a difficult time for you; it would be easier to think that he’s there in Oak Creek. Maybe someone was there that resembled Peter, you were close to him.” 

“It was him.” Derek repeated. “I spoke to him at the church, it was Peter.” 

........Six Months Previously.......

When they returned to town it was day again, Stiles had made no mention of the children that had appeared by the church or the howling that had seemed to follow them out. 

Derek was becoming annoyed, he lived in his head but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t capable of letting all that emotion out in an outburst. It was the price of bottling his emotions. 

One of his hands gripped the steering wheel and the other was clinging to Stiles a lot harder than necessary, those children had stared at him, they had made eye contact. He couldn't explain it but he knew their eyes, bright red, shiny reflective red, as bright as Stiles amber ones. 

“Derek." Stiles cold hand was moving around his, entwining their fingers. "no matter what don’t go into that church.” The steering wheel was creaking now, he wanted to drive off now, go until they were out of this weird darkness, this place. Stiles twisted in his seat, moving so his face was pressed against Derek's arm. 

“This isn’t real stiles, there all actors, this town is made up.” 

Stiles looked up at him, just stared at him as if trying to understand something. Derek was a little taken back when stiles stroked his thumb over one Derek’s now white knuckles. He relaxed his hold, mentally kicking himself that he had probably hurt Stiles. This place was getting to him. 

“We’ll get Cane and the manuscript, take them back to New York and then I’m going to introduce you to a friend of mine, he’s going to make you better Stiles. Once we get out of here, it’s all going to be okay. I’ll protect you, we’re pack now” 

Stiles smiled sadly at him, before returning to press his face back against the same arm. Like it hurt him that Derek was missing a giant piece of what was happening here. He’d expose them all, after this he was retiring and going back to California, back home, he’d take stiles with him, he’d need an assistant, maybe open his own practice. 

Neither spoke till they pulled into the dinner. He knew there was a diner here, Stiles had pointed it out earlier when first entering the town, claiming it was the best place for curly fries and burgers. It was the little piece of heaven in the hell that was Oak Creek. Stiles was out of the car as soon as Derek had opened his door, if he could have he'd have jumped off the moment Derek turned off the engine. Derek didn’t like it when Stiles wandered too far away from him, he couldn’t explain it. Derek followed after him; there was a deputy in the booth just by entrance. An Asian couple in one of the corner booths, people scattered all around. Each had turned to stare at him, Stiles was already in a booth in the back. 

He ignored them as he made his way to Stiles; he was used to being stared at. He sat next to Stiles, the booth was oversized, but it didn’t stop him from moving till they were hip to hip. The waitress walked over to them, she was an older woman. She smiled at them as she handed them their menus. 

Nemeton, it was a strange name for a diner, the image on the front was a large tree. There was writing on the bottom, “Nemeton is the brightest light in the darkest of places." Derek repeated. “They perfected the creepy vibe here.” He informed Stiles who was staring at the waitress. 

“It’s where we stay till the hellhound returns, when he does the outside world becomes Oak Creek. We’ll make our own heaven on earth” The waitress, her name tag saying Satomi opened up her notepad and smiled. “What can I get you to drink?” 

Derek ordered for them, ignoring how everyone was staring at them and how Stiles was remaining silent. 

Derek was impressed at the details the Publishing house had gone to. He wondered who else was behind it, he might not sue them but demand that he and Stiles remain out of whatever brochure and publicity was coming to this place. 

Satomi stopped by a few times, topped off their drinks and mentioned off handily about being careful; the foxes were out tonight, heard about void returning. Derek didn’t know what that meant, and wondered if it was part of the new book. He enjoyed his meal and paid in cash leaving a tip behind, that actress was impressive. Stiles had simply kept one hand under the table holding one of Derek’s the entire time.  
….

It was when they were leaving the diner that Derek froze, pulling Stiles behind him. There on the sidewalk twenty feet before him was Peter. His uncle Peter, looking the same as he had when he had disappeared, was standing on the sidewalk across from the diners parking lot, facing him. 

Peter smiled at him; the same smile that he had that very morning when he had promised he’d help Derek with his homework after his walk. 

Stiles tugged on Derek’s hand, causing enough distraction to have Derek turn away from him uncle. 

“Are you okay?” Stiles question caused him to pause; he turned back to where his uncle had been. There was no one there. “Was it the food? Because you really ate a lot, I mean I thought I could eat, but you…I think even the cook was thinking I was starving you.” 

Derek had been tempted to ask if Stiles saw Peter, but he had to be strong. One of them had to be, it was the only way they could get out here intact. 

“Let’s take a walk around, see what else this place has.” Derek told him already dragging Stiles away. 

............Present Time..........

Both of them could hear the patients screaming, the thunder was so loud. Deaton knew this place had a generator, so he wasn’t worried but he was concerned for Derek. At every flickering of the lights, he swore the boy was snarling at him. The shadows twisting something in his face, the shadow his body cast. 

“After the walk around town you headed back to the Camaro, but you were separated from Stiles?” Deaton asked there was this tone, which Derek took to meaning he was more curious in what was in the water and food to cause this type of reaction. 

“I saw Peter again; he was walking with those two boys.” Derek left out the part where he had pushed stiles into the diner, ordered him to stay and then told Satomi he'd pay for whatever Stiles ordered once he got back. Stiles had looked ready to argue when Satomi had smiled and promised she'd make sure Stiles stayed nice and safe, it had hurt but Derek had left Stiles there even when the expression on Stiles faced screamed that he was terrified. 

“So you followed them.” Deaton concluded, not asking what had happened to Stiles. Deaton had his own theory on Stiles; after he had gone through all of the paperwork he had made his conclusion. But right now, Derek wasn’t in anyplace to deal with that truth. 

“I went after them.” 

Deaton nodded and pulled out two missing persons flyers, one was for his uncle and one for the two boys. 

“They all went missing around the same time; your mother had these flyers. Your grandmother had mentioned to her that this wasn’t a coincidence. That this was all connected, she had even kept one of the flyers that had aged photo's of what they would look like now, in the present time, you remember Gemin’s father was a deputy, he was the one that had taken your statement after what happened with Paige.” 

Derek only stared at him, before staring at the flyers. Eyes seeming to flash red again at the one with the two boys, like it was triggering to him. 

“Peter was taking them to the church.” 

........6 months previously..........

Derek ran after his uncle. 

He swore it seemed no matter how fast he ran they were always ahead of him. He knew where they were going, he knew the way even in the woods, he could make it there blindfolded. He had to get to that church, he had to get his uncle and Stiles, pile them into the Camaro and drive off. 

He continued running till he was now out of the woods and in the clearing. The three he had been chasing down were already walking up the steps to the church. 

“Peter!!” Derek screamed. 

The only answer he received was the sound of a heavy church door slamming shut.  
….

As Derek ran up the path to the church, each step reminded him of that week. 

That one week when he was 15, when it seemed his life had fallen apart. 

First there had been Paige, hair loose and messy, wearing that white dress from the Valentines dance, feet dirty and her arms scratched up, simply hanging from her broken neck in the cellar. He could still hear the rope; still see her swaying, eyes open and staring. 

His uncle smiling at him and promising to be right back, but never did return. He remembered his uncle’s room, markings in black pen on the walls, journals missing and laptop gone. 

At the end of that week Kate Argent had offered him a ride home, rushed kisses and touches in the backseat of her car, telling him how special he was, and then one month later she was trying to kill him. 

He ran up the steps to the church doors, he grabbed both handles and pulled. The doors didn’t budge, he pulled again. He could hear voices on the inside, muffled but voices. He pounded on the door with his fists screaming his uncle’s name the whole while. 

“Those doors won’t open till it’s time.” 

Derek turned, he recognized him from the diner, the deputy. “Why.”

“Cane’s preparing everything for you.” The deputy informed him, standing at the base of the steps. 

“Me.” Derek let out a small bitter laugh. He was going to sue that publishing house and Sutter Cane. “I have to give it to you for all the details, really creepy, but it ends now. How do I get to Peter!”

The deputy stared at him, unblinking. “We all have been waiting a long time for you to come back, to finally open those doors and let us out.” The deputy took a step closer to the stairs, looking ready to climb that first step. "all that time on the outside, it really messed with your head, you used to be terrifying, now.....I'm tempted to throw a ball and see how domesticated you really are."

“That’s enough Parrish.” Stiles voice was harsh. 

Parrish looked at Stiles, both their eyes glowing bright. There was a few feet separating them, Derek swore for a moment there was a distortion in their faces, sharp ears, and teeth,it caused them to look inhuman. Parrish snarled before retreating, walking back towards the woods. 

Stiles turned his attention back to Derek, eyes too bright to be human. Derek had the urge to jump down the steps and shake him, shake him till this all made sense. Wanted to scream at Stiles for leaving the diner, wanted to demand how he had gotten here so quickly. He wanted to know why and for the first time, scaring Stiles seemed less a terrifying thought and more of something he wanted to do. 

“Let’s go back to the Inn.” Stiles pleaded in a small voice. 

“No, we’re not going back.” Derek hissed, all but jumping down the steps to Stiles, forcing the now timid looking boy back a few steps, before grabbing him by the upper arms and hauling him close, in a very threatening manner. “To that Inn or anywhere in this damn town. We’re getting in the car, we’re leaving and once we get to the closest town, we’re calling the cops, press, my lawyer and Deaton. We are never coming back here, in fact, I’m going to make sure this whole place is burned down and leveled!” 

Derek was shaking Stiles now. 

“We can’t leave here.” Stiles hissed,"not anymore." 

Derek stared at him for a long while before letting him go, he took one step back. His eyes never leaving Stiles, before he pursed his lips in a thin line and then without warning punched Stiles hard. 

Stiles went down easily. For a moment he had seemed surprised at what had happened that Derek would hurt him. Carrying him over his shoulder, Derek made his way down the path that led to the church. 

..........Present Time..............

Deaton was staring, his pen forgotten in his loosened grip. The lights still flickered on and off and the other patients on the 5th floor were now screaming. Deaton could hear what sounded like laughter in the mix. 

“I carried him out of the woods, carried him towards the car. That idiot had....I tried to get us out of there” Derek was now staring at the floor, Deaton could see him struggling in the jacket. Almost swore he could hear it tearing “I tried to get us out of there..but the car..”

........Six Months Previous..................

Derek knew he had left the Camaro at the diner. 

He hadn’t driven here, and he knew he hadn’t given Stiles his keys. The same keys that should still be in jacket pocket. But probably weren't, because Stiles was a thief, a tricky little thief who was now going to be patted down before he ever left the freaking apartment or his parents house ever again. 

Stiles had stolen his keys, sometime in the diner Stiles had stolen the fucking keys. 

He was halfway in the path, the church on one end and the Camaro on the other when he noticed it. The Church was surrounded by the woods, it was basically in the clearing in the middle of the woods, or Preserve. But now he was noticing the glowing eyes in the darkness, the sounds of things scurrying in that darkness, he was being watched. Stiles hadn’t woken, he was still limp over Derek’s shoulder. 

Derek had always been athletic; the run to the car wasn’t going to be a problem but finding the keys. Derek had been prepared for the long trek back to the diner, but now the issue of finding the keys. No one had hurt them, but he doubted they would just let them leave. There mission was to scare them, and with Stiles draped helpless over his shoulder, the fear was winning. If he moved wrong, if he dropped Stiles wrong. The snarl that tore out of his throat surprised him but that wasn't what caused him to tense, to feel that flicker of flight or fight shiver itself into his spine and tighten his grip. 

Derek felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, before he heard the church doors open. He could hear the heavy doors moving, scrapping against the floor, the growling from the trees. He could hear the whispers in the church again, the low voices of children whispering to each other, impatient children waiting. The sounds of someone walking, the smell of grandmothers homemade laundry detergent, because her babies were sensitive to so much. He heard the chuckle, it was low like the one he had heard before when he had been caught talking to the baby fox his grandmother had taken in, had always left food out for, put in a doggie door so it could go in and out of the house. It was joked that his grandmother was the only woman they knew who would treat a wild fox like a spoiled kitten, that familiar chuckle that meant he found this endearing. 

He was halfway to the car and the church. 

“It’s been a long time Derek.” 

Derek remembered the last time he heard that voice, he remembered how his mother had called his uncles cell long after he had disappeared, to hear his voice, or maybe hoping one day he’d answer. 

“Won’t you come inside, we have much to catch up on.”

Derek didn’t know what it was that made him turn and walk towards the church, carrying Stiles over his shoulder , walking towards his uncle. His uncle who looked the same. 

“You must have so many questions for me,” Peter stated, “wondering what this place is, and how it relates to you.” Peter smiled that same smile that meant he was here to help, that made that fight and flight instinct fade and made him feel like he was standing in the doorway of his uncles room with Laura, waiting to hear a story and knowing their uncle had given in and was ready to tell them something new and exciting. "I had almost given up hope Derek that you'd come, but I knew, I could always count on you to find your way back home."  
….

Stiles was slowly coming to, he was surprised that creepy Derek had hit him. He had assumed Derek was more of a drug the drink of his current interest type. Well he had certainly learned not to assume. 

“D…der..derek?” Stiles asked slightly confused. He squirmed in the hold, feeling a little annoyed when the grip on his legs tightened. 

Stiles could hear the growling around them, feel the stares, and hear the whispers around them in the reserve. But it was the voice of Cane as he spoke to Derek, that caught his attention. 

“Derek….” Stiles repeated a little louder and squirmed some more, uncaring of the bruises that would no doubt appear later, he was a fast healer. 

Derek could hear Stiles calling to him, part of him wanted to listen but another part knew he was going into that church. It was time, he needed to go into that church. 

“Stiles can’t join us though Derek.” Peter stated. 

“Cane.” Stiles stated clearly. “Derek, you’re talking to Cane!” 

Peter only smiled. “Really Gemin, must you really spoil all my surprises.” 

Stiles let out a laugh, it wasn’t a laugh of mirth though, it seemed slightly hysterical. Derek stopped walking and stared at his uncle, his completely unaged uncle who was apparently going by the name Sutter Cane. 

“I think you and I need to have a long talk, come into the church Derek.” There was this amusement in his uncles voice that had Derek feeling the need to flee, it wasn’t fear that he was feeling it was something else, something that he couldn’t name yet. Peter seemed to be very aware of how his behavior was effecting him, he looked at Stiles. Derek shifted, he wanted to keep Stiles hidden from him. 

“Let Stiles go, he can’t leave. He wont leave you, not again, he’ll be right here waiting for you. Or if you want he can wait at the Inn, Parrish can take him.”

Parrish was there now, glowing eyed Parrish. 

“No, we talk out here.” Derek snapped back, he had nowhere to run, Parrish was behind him and his uncle in front. Stiles, was clinging to his shirt, holding it tightly, heart beating so fast, breathing to quick. 

Peter nodded, Derek thought nothing of it till he felt something heavy jump on him. Something that snarled, and smelled like singed fur, and had claws. But above it all he could hear Stiles scream, feel when Stiles weight was removed from him.  
……

It was like a bad dream, it was more glimpses of images and sounds the distortion of size. He remembered Stiles on the floor staring, the giant dog that snarled at him, the feeling of teeth and claws, the sound of bone breaking, skin being shed, the changing and the taste of copper, it was sweet. The feeling of hands on his face, the amber eyes staring back at him, glowing in the red haze and Peter smiling and walking away. The sight of Parrish snarling at them and limping away, the sound of his own howl, the sound of others joining, pack, home, chasing what was his, chasing a fox, catching the fox and claiming back what was his. 

The red fading to nothing and then the feel of grass and the smell of stiles, the sound of stiles whispering to him as he drifted off in that darkness.  
……..

Derek dreamed. 

It was a strange dream, very detailed, it felt real. 

He was at the house, his home in California. Where he had been born and raised. The cellar looked the same, it was still cold and with a sand floor. The roots of the hanging tree still showing in the floor, no doubt it was still taller than the house, it was their protection his grandmother always told them. The hanging tree was their protector, their path back and forth. The light that brought them home, regardless of the darkness they walked in. In return for that light and protection they where it's lifeline. He didn’t understand, sometimes her stories seemed so strange, different paths to places only their kind could go. A place she called home, but it didn’t matter right now he was just staring at Paige as she was placing the noose around her neck. 

She looked at him and smiled, the same tight lipped smile that he had remembered towards the end. When her questioned had changed from curiosities to strange ones, that had him wondering what she had gotten herself into. 

“I had to.” She reminded him as he just stared at her. “the fox that follows you all the time, it tells me I have to.” 

Derek looked at the top of basement steps, the fox that had always followed him since he was a small child, one day it had just seemed to disappear it had made him and grandmother sad. The little fox with it's amber eyes and red spotted fur was there staring down at both of them. It tilted it’s head and then looked at Paige, her hands tightening the noose. 

“I can’t do this alone, when I’m ready can you kick the chair out from under me?” Paige asked in the same tone she used when asking him to pass her a pencil or to close the door after he left the orchestra room. 

Derek nodded. The fox was walking down the stairs now, at a slow pace. 

“it was all about you Derek. You were the special child, They all knew it when the fox showed up, always watching you, following you, whispering to everyone that was close to you. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I knew what you were, I know what you’re going to do. I had to try and stop it. It was supposed to be fast, but the fox knew and he made me stop.” Paige smiled at him as walked closer to her. The fox was at the bottom of the steps staring at them. “You should talk to Peter, he wrote it all, he was the prophet, the seer of the end. Every part, to the end, I read it Derek. I read all of it.” 

Derek placed his hands on her chair. It was like the ones in the kitchen, carved with little designs. Each telling a story, his grandmother had grown up with, stories she passed down, that Peter had written in children books for his and Laura's birthdays. With pictures and bright water colors, telling a history that they didn't need to live with ever again, because a new world was going to happen. 

His grandmother told him stories of the skin walkers, said they weren’t like them they didn't have a true form buried under their human skin. It was strange, that the skin walkers called him a hound, that his grandmother responded back and called them formless, said the void would eat them if they wandered to close. He had met a tribe of them once, a group of them that had brought gifts, things taken from witches and hunters that would show their tribute to the hanging tree, it had another name, but he never could remember it. 

“Derek it’s time. Make sure to talk to Peter, the doors will open this time.” He nodded and pulled the chair out from her bare feet, he watched as she fell, heard the break of her neck and the sound of the air leaving her lungs. He looked at the fox who was staring at Paige, tail wagging in the same speed that her body was, matching it, mocking it. 

“What happens now?” Derek asked the fox who looked at Derek with the amber eyes that were everything like Stiles. 

“You're remembering Derek, because you have to. You blocked it all away after the hunters came, after she came. Tried to hide in their world, and I let you. Made it so you could be happy being one of them and I took care of the rest." The fox was walking towards a child's body hidden in the roots, watched as the the fox used it's teeth to open the stitches on the stomach, watched as it opened. 

"The last book is about you, everything else was just the little steeping stones to all of this, the parts of the pieces to tell your story.” The fox was now crawling into the opened stomach of the body of a young boy, it looked familiar, but he never remembered seeing it here in the cellar. He watched as the skin rolled and coiled, as it seemed, to try and fit the same of the fox. Derek didn’t even blink as the fox snout poked out of the boy’s mouth as the skull caved in and then expanded again. It reminded Derek of someone putting their socks on and then stretching their toes.

“You remember Gemin, you told me you liked how he smelled, that he was who I would be as a human. So I whispered into Peter’s ear, and promised that your family would remain royalty, have the protection of my kind, an alliance, our own heaven on earth. The creatures of the dark will walk in their sun, no more dead skins to keep us from burning in the witches spells, we will all finally be free. All the witches who guarded the doors are gone, except those who pledged their lives to the Nemeton. The hunters have scattered, any who shared their blood line gone mad, who will listen to them, all those who protected those doors are dead. ” the boys skin seemed to roll again as the fox tried to find a place to settle, it brought back memories of watching the fox when he was younger crawling around in his discarded t-shirts before sleeping in a ball in the middle. Where it claimed it was the warmest. 

Derek stared at the young boy, “I don’t….” 

The fox was now settled in the skin, he watched as the boy rose from the ground like a broken puppet with two strings, the skin on the stomach closing, he could see the outline of the fox curling in the boys stomach. it made Derek smile, the skin turning from that dull bluish grey and back into a pale pink, one of it's eyes stayed closed as the fox adjusted. 

“I don’t want to remember…we … what she did to us..it was my fault...I don't want that life! I want us to stay here. I want this reality. I made us a den, I can provide for us, we can live here, in the light among them. Like them, and no one will hunt us." Derek whispered, feeling a little giddy as the fox’s eyes opened again. It was bright, so bright like a flashlight against thin cloth. The fox smiled, it wasn’t the perfect smile yet, it dipped in some areas, seemed like the skin was to big in some places, like a badly baked cake or raw dough. 

Stiles needed time before he would even be able to walk in that skin. Use his magic to keep it fresh and growing. He needed to have a place to rest, since he was weak still. The cellar was perfect, in the shadows of the roots. This time no hunter would come in, no hunters to hurt them again. 

“Go to the church, open those doors.” Stiles reached out towards him, his fingers were moving slowly, the skin still loose in some areas. Derek took his hand in his, trying to mold it like clay, like the skin walkers did to their younger children. Derek frowned and shook his head, he didn’t want that life, he liked his apartment, his job and Stiles would like it too. He would like New York, it was perfect. 

“No.” Derek hissed as he continued to work on Stiles hand. 

“That’s a good boy. You do know what you should do. What the right thing to do is.” Kate was sitting on that chair now, the one a little to the left of where Paige was hanging. Now on it was just Kate, throat torn out, if one looked closer they could see the bite marks in all that blood. See the claw marks where they had held her down long enough for a hound to tear her throat out with its teeth. Derek moved Stiles behind him, blocking him from her view. “ You should have died that day, then this would never have happened, and you would have too, but I remember that little fox, tricky little thing, I had killed him, I thought I had, a bullet to the head, but should have been the stomach. That’s were the fox is sleeping isn’t it.” Kate let out a little laugh, one that didn't show amusement but leaned more on the disappointing side. Like it had all been right in front of her, and she had just missed it. 

Derek snarled, feeling the change again, the same change he had when she had been trying to kill him, when the flames had been burning, when he heard the pained howls. 

“I know what you are, you might not want to be it anymore, who knows what changed it. Maybe it was seeing how weak you were, I did kill members of your pack, I did shoot your little mate, and he left you fast when he realized you couldn't protect him, but Instead of chasing after him, you left and settled into New York, a fucking insurance investigator. A hell hound in a suit. It’s funny, so fucking funny.” 

Kate was holding something in her hands, it was the same gun he had seen her use in the woods. The one that had shot his cousin, he remembered the red eyes blazing then fading into nothing but black that seemed to pour out of her eyes, like tears. 

She had the same gun raised now, aimed at Derek’s head. 

“Well come on!!.” Kate yelled, as she pulled the trigger.  
……

Derek woke screaming.


	4. The Itch of Humanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remembering is like drowning, slowly. It encompasses you and then waits for you to let it all in knowing you can’t fight it off anymore. Your arms are too tired, your legs have given out on you and the weight of it all just drags you down.

AN: Lets see if you were paying attention  


He had expected to be in the woods.

That was where he was last.

Instead he was in their bed at the Inn.

An Inn that was run by a witch, who was wearing Paige's skin, the skin he had tried to offer to Stiles. Now that he was remembering, some of what he had assumed was just strange and quirky about him and his family was actually, their nature. He sighed into his pillow and stretched, feeling his skin and muscles adjust, his skin felt two sizes too small. He could feel his hound under it, slithering around in annoyance of being caged again, after finally being free. It had been a long while since he had shifted, since he had even remembered that he could.

He had a whole new appreciating for Doctor Deaton and the sessions his mother had sent him to when he had been a teenage, he couldn't blame her, to the outside world he was suffering from delusions, while to his pack he had been cursed into being human, well the closest to human one of his kind could be.

He was still angry; he had every right to be. His mate in fear and anger had cursed him, and then ran away from him. Choosing that little spark of humanity left in a body, which yes, Derek had forced him into, over his own mate. He let out a huff as he adjusted to no longer being locked in his human skin. Once the pleasant buzz of his senses being filled with mate and the release of shifting again faded, he'd probably explode in an outburst of anger. But for right now, if his tail was still visible it would be wagging.

He rolled over onto his side, he had expected to see his mate beside him asleep, but Stiles had never made anything easy. Instead Stiles was a flurry of movement as he was packing their bags, and muttering to himself that they couldn't stay here another second, it was time to leave.

"Stiles come here." He reached for him but was ignored. "Stiles, you're probably cold there, it's warmer here." He got a shirt thrown at his face for his trouble, and just to be rude a pair of jeans followed right after.

"No, we are leaving! Like now Derek! Like yesterday! We are leaving and going to see Deaton, I decided that reading is a horrible endeavor and am going to create a movement that is so anti reading it bans books! But we are leaving before anything else crazy happens!" Stiles was an almost endearing sight to see with his yelling and packing, he should be happy, they were home and they could get that little problem with Stiles fixed.

"We're home Stiles, I like it here. We've been here before; I can't believe I had forgotten." Derek smiles as memories of his childhood in Oak Creek seemed to play itself out in his head. He could see himself as pup herding his mate and cousins around. See Laura trying to boss the older Hounds into letting her get her way. Hear his uncle teaching him how to howl at the most inconvenient of times to the other residents of Oak Creek, it was a little heartbreaking to realize all that he had forgotten. He smiled at Stiles and reached for him, "I know a way to make you feel better."

Derek's carry on luggage smacked him in the chin; he rolled his eyes as Stiles started packing his own clothes, since he had just finished packing Derek's for him and wasn't that adorable, and toiletries into his dufflebag.

"This isn't home! I don't even know why I let Cane talk me into this! You were never supposed to go back to being.." Stiles paused long enough in his packing to wave his arms in place of words, since suddenly words were hard to find to describe what was really happening. "...that, you were just supposed to bust this as a publishing stunt, be reunited with your uncle and then we'd all laugh at how our relationship started! This is wrong, you were so happy, nice and less creepy, and now you're back to being, well that!" Stiles was going to continue his rant but the arms that grabbed him when he came to close to the bed and pulled him back to the center of that bed, cut him off.

"It's my fault. I should have listened to Peter when he said it was too early to put you into that body." Stiles made a scoffing noise as he continued to try and leave from where he was pressed onto the bed. "I was just so excited that you'd be like me, able to stay with me there too, hunt our prey together, and walk in the light like you wanted to." Derek nuzzled his hair. "I forgot that you used to have nightmares about Gemin." there was a pause in the struggling; now he had his mates' attention. "You won't have those again, Gemin won't be able to influence you again, Peter can make it go away." that was apparently the wrong thing to say, but Derek was used to Stiles being all struggles, elbows, claws and teeth when he didn't want to be held down, but Derek was a fast healer. "We'll go into the church together and whatever is left of that brat will just burn out."

Stiles went still in his arms. "No, I don't want that. I like having a soul. I like being Gemin"

Derek let out an annoyed growl and kept him pinned. "You are not Gemin, you are Stiles, a void demon, a fox demon." Stiles managed to elbow Derek in the chin and sink, now sharp needle like teeth into Derek's arm before starting to shake his head in an attempt to get free. Really, nothing was ever easy with this one, it had been once, and those had been the good old days, when Stiles was a newborn and unable to more than let out little yips and whines. "It's better without one, easier, I can find you a new body, or you can choose it, I think you'll look good with long hair, she can be your age if it's easier."

Derek could feel Stiles tense, jaws tightening and the feel the shift of the fox. Trying to shift without hurting its human skin, it's dead human skin. It almost made Derek want to laugh, but the knock on the door was a distraction.

"Mr. Hale, Parrish is here to escort you back to Mr. Cane." Stiles had never thought hearing Jennifer's voice would ever make him feel like throwing his arms around her and kissing her.

"Stay here, I'll be back." The weight was lifted off of him and he sighed, enjoying the air returning to his lungs. "I will be back. I will expect to find you here. I will chase you down this time."

Stiles let out a laugh, not if he didn't implant another suggestion in his head, like "can't you just act human for once", that one had gone over well. "Just go!"

Derek looked at him, just stared at him, till the door was knocked on again. Stiles glared back before turning his back to Derek, he had liked humanized, less bossy and demanding Derek. Stiles merely grappled a pillow that was on the verge of falling off the bed and aggressively spooned it.

…...

Parrish was sitting at the bar waiting for Derek, the chosen one, or whatever. It was always about Derek. Ever since he could remember everyone had been all over heels in love with Derek. Parrish just didn't understand it, Derek had the personality of a growling junk yard dog, but Cane-as he wanted to be called now, since he was a prophet- had been so proud of Derek, even when Stiles had placed that magical whammy on him. Making the once terrifying hell hound into an insurance investigator. Parrish wouldn't lie he had laughed for days about that one. Cane had been especially amused, claimed all couples have their spats. Cane had even offered to raise Stiles on the outside, and encouraged that Derek be allowed to embrace his new life.

"Whiskey on the rocks." Parrish ordered.

Jennifer had delivered his message, but just like usual Derek did want he wanted, and there of course would be no consequences. It didn't matter that Cane his missing uncle, the one that he hadn't seen or heard from in over 10 years, was demanding his presence. What seemed to matter right now was letting Stiles shriek on about a pillow that apparently Derek was holding hostage and threatening to disembowel, oh and how cuddling wasn't a job. If Stiles had been his mate the moment it was even hinted that a binding had gone wrong, he would have dragged the fox kicking and screaming into that church. But Stiles was Derek's mate, and Derek had a hard enough time saying no to the brat, it was even worse afterwards. Because as Cane had put it, don't we all just crave affection, so if Stiles wanted to keep that spark of a soul than by all means everyone else in the pack and community had just learn to like it.

"It must be nice having the pack together again." Parrish was tempted to claw at the old man, he hated hunters, but he didn't want Jennifer deciding that he was intruding on her staff. She only liked Stiles anyway, because he understood why it seemed fine to simply cry at odd times.

"Just keep them coming."

It was 10 minutes and 3 drinks later when an annoyed Derek walked over to him growling.

"Let's go, I don't like waiting." Derek growled finishing Parrish's drink for him in one go.

...….

Peter was typing when they arrived at the church.

"Writing is never easy, it's all those lose ends. You would think it would be the bigger stories that kept the attention of readers but it's the smallest details that actually do." Peter informed them as moved a finished page on to a still growing stack beside him "Two children sacrificed because of the potential, the curiosity and innocence each held, but one, one stubborn child refused to let go. That stubborn child then corrupts a demon, makes it just like him, till it is him." Peter rolled a new paper into the type writer. "That one detail changes everything, it changed the entire story, started a landslide of cause and effect. The huntress chosen for her skin, but accidentally gifted with visions of what was to happen, she tried to keep it all from happening, almost did, but fear and love are powerful weapons. The skin walkers and the coven they destroyed. A coven that had hunted and nearly annihilated an entire tribe, only one witch survived, saved by the compassion and logic of a child. The father, who regained his lost child, even accepted him as he was with open arms. But out of vengeance and fear of that loss again, decided to help hunters and witches, only to wittiness a massacre and lose that child all over again. To this, the end of a witch and hunter protected world and the return of the messenger."

Parrish looked at Derek who shrugged; both could agree that there was something strange about writers.

Peter continued typing as the two hell hounds waited. "I was upset, when the binding ritual was...different, but I could see the bigger picture, this was all part of the story, and it was playing itself out perfectly." Peter looked up from his typing, placing one last sheet of paper on the stack. "It's done." He stood and waved one hand over the stack of paper on the desk. "You should read it Derek, it is what you came here for, see how your story ends."

Derek glared at his uncle before agreeing in his nonverbal way and walking towards the stack. Peter placed a hand on the back of Derek's neck and pushed his face towards the pages. "I think it's my best work yet." Derek didn't have time to roll his eyes before the "reading" began.

…...

He could hear the screams all around him, smell the blood, could almost taste it. But he was in his apartment, his bedroom to be exact. That didn't make sense, he was going home after this, back to Beacon Hills were his pack was. He was going to be leaving this place behind, that life behind. He walked towards the living room and open kitchen and froze there before him was a man sitting on one of his sofas, an open bottle of whiskey and two filled glasses. He would have to tell his uncle he wasn't a heavy drinker.

"You should sit down son; we have a lot to talk about."

Derek only raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest; he wasn't going to be ordered around in his own apartment. The man didn't even seem fazed, like he expected it, and began to drink.

"I know what you are, and what you're meant to do, I also know you're one of the reasons my son is the way he is." the man placed a badge on the table; from where he stood he could read it. Sheriff, that meant Gemin's dad, which meant someone important to Stiles. He walked over and sat himself on a chair that had apparently magically placed itself there, facing across from the sheriff. "You and I both know how this is going to end."

Derek reached over and accepted the glass that was his. He kept his eyes on the man, he had a feeling if he didn't he'd be a nursing a bullet hole. "I'm not walking away."

The sheriff stared at him, before nodding. "To the end then, dragging us all there, doesn't matter that what you did killed his mother, will kill me. He came to me, after he had saved that witch, brought her to me and begged me to listen. I almost didn't, how can you look at the face of your own kid and know that's not really him, that he's been replaced with a monster." Derek growled, and the sheriff laughed before finishing his drink in one go. "For a second I thought you were going to tell me this was just a story, that this couldn't be real because you were just in a church right." Derek finished his drink and put it back down a little harder that necessary, the sheriff refilled it and smiled. "Look at us, characters in a Sutter Cane story sharing a drink, I don't know whether to eat my gun, or place a bullet between your eyes."

Derek snarled showing teeth, but the sheriff only waved him off. "We'll meet again and I'll make sure you remember it, after all the pain you caused Derek, you deserve whatever's coming to you." there was a long pause as both men just stared at each other, before the sheriff sighed, and refilled his drink. "Before it's over Derek, you're going to look into that abyss, and see all the things you thought were only characters in your grandmothers stories, stare right back at you. It's going to drive you mad, because whatever Gemin did to you is still there, under the surface, he made you like him. Gave you a little piece of my son that he and I can never get back. Are you ready for that?"

Derek stood and threw his glass at the wall behind the sheriff. "I think you should eat your gun."

"Don't take it personal, their all monsters John, they killed my family, and left me to bleed out in some alley way." Derek turned to see a new face, "I should be familiar, you did tear my sisters' throat out with your teeth, you have an extra glass there for me John. I mean we're all here because of him, might at least find away to enjoy it, before the whole hell on earth."

"I know what I am, do you!" Derek snarled, he had a sheriff and hunter sitting on his sofa staring at him with unimpressed written on their faces.

"We're going to die, no wait, become cattle that is ruled over by their kind, because of him. I think the whole eating of my own gun is a dignified way to go, what do you think Gemin?" The sheriff, whose name was John looked over at another chair that had just appeared, where a live and breathing seven year old Gemin was sitting quietly with a sheet of paper in his small hands, "Did you finish the story you wanted to read to us?" the child nodded and stood now facing Derek. He made a show first of clearing his throat and making sure he was standing as tall as he could before he began in the loudest and most serious voice a seven year old could make.

"Derek stood at the edge of the rip, staring into the illimitable gulf of the unknown, the old world yawning blackly beyond. But he did not shriek or close his eyes, the hideous unholy abominations that were just like him, shrieked in joy for him. As in the same second he saw them, they started to spill and tumble upward, out of a giant dead black pit, filled with the bright white bones of countless endless centuries of sacrifices before. He began to back away from the rip, knowing now the weight of what he had done, as the army of unspeakable figures came pouring out from the bottomless pit into our world." The child that had been Gemin, stared up at him with the same amber eyes as his fox, and held the paper out to him. "It's never going to be just a bad dream again, is it Derek?" Derek took the paper from him, shaking his head as he took a step back, nearly tripping over his chair. His eyes never leaving the child that continued to stare right back at him, with those same damn eyes, till he was now in the hallway that lead to his bedroom.

"Are we going to die like mommy, Daddy?" It was his hearing that caught Gemin's question and the laughter the Sheriff and the hunter gave in answer.

...

Derek shoved away from his uncle backing up until he had stumbled onto the ground. He was breathing hard and could feel his flesh tearing as he tried to shift into a hound. Peter and Parrish were staring at him before Peter turned his back on Derek and began preparing his manuscript for it's journey. Parrish continued staring at him with his red eyes. He didn't know how long he sat there on the floor being stared at by Parrish, before Peter regained their attention.

"Well now it's all done, the final book, "In the Mouth of Madness", do be a good boy and take this to the publishers." Peter turned and handed a package to Parrish.

"Make sure he delivers it, I know this was my best work, but I didn't think it would be so...maddening." Parrish nodded and walked towards Derek. "Well Derek, as much as I enjoyed our family reunion it's time you headed back. Tell your mother I do intent to visit, but I suggest you leave now. Before Stiles decides to drive off without you." Peter paused and placed his hand on Derek's shoulder before giving it a firm squeeze. "You are helping to create a new world, a better world. You made me proud, made us all proud."

...

Jennifer was walking to the front desk when he arrived; she was using a wet wipe to remove the blood from her hands. She smiled to brightly at him, "Stiles already packed the car, I gave him some tea to help him rest, and he should still be sleeping. Shall I check you out now or would you like to book another reservation." When Derek didn't answer she only nodded, "I will put a hold on that suite, in case you find yourself back here, if that will be all, I have to clean up." she turned away from them following the hallway to wherever it was that she stayed.

Derek shook his head, "Parrish put the manuscript in the trunk and make sure the passenger seat is clear. I want to leave now, before there are any complications."

Parrish bared his teeth in dislike but went off to do what was asked of him, Derek had already beaten him in front of the pack and others, he had no choice but to submit. Derek climbed the steps to their room, with a sense of foreboding. This wasn't going to end well. Stiles was still asleep when he entered the room, just curled up on the bed, drugged but still asleep. If it had been another time, Derek would have stopped to simply watch and memorize everything he could of how his mate looked sleeping, but it wasn't, he wanted them to be on the road before Stiles came to. He lifted him up carefully, knowing there would be no arguing over the bridal carry, he indulged himself in taking advantage.

It took him less than 10 minutes to get to the car; he had to stop a few times when some little part of him felt guilty. Parrish didn't say anything only held the door for Derek as he placed and buckled Stiles into his seat, before closing the door and letting himself into the back via the drivers side, neither spoke as Derek started the car or when he drove off. Both hounds just remained silent, unknowing that both were thinking of the consequences of what had just been done.

...4 months earlier...

Ms. Reyes was on the phone with her mother, they talked every Tuesday during her lunch. The current topic, which was thankfully not about her and Boyd living in sin, was the strange changes that were occurring; it seemed that daily a new epidemic or storm was causing casualties on a global level.

"I know mother, it was on the news today that some fever is starting to infect children, their thinking of closing the schools, and I just don't know, Boyd assures me Issac is going to fine, but there are already 5 who passed from Issac's classroom alone." Erica Reyes paused as a manila folder that hadn't been on her desk earlier, was suddenly, there. She picked it up, and started reading the note that was stabled to the folder. "Well it seems on a good note, the manuscript for Cane's last book was delivered. I must have missed Mr. Hale. Oh I know mother that was just horrible gossip about him disappearing. If he was really gone, then how did I get the manuscript? "

Erica buzzed in her secretary and handed her the folder, covering the phone with her hand so as not to confuse her mother as she instructed the manuscript to be rushed. "I was just telling one of the interns yesterday that we have never had a Stiles at the company, he was adamant that we did, I have always been the only one to deal with Mr. Cane, I think it's the weather, it does seem like people are going insane, just the other day Boyd was joking that it was end of the world and then in the same breath saying we should have another child, no, you'll only encourage him. He's a stay home father mom, he's just dealing with Issac growing up, he wanted to home school Issac." Erica listened to her mother and stared at the photo of her family that stared at her from her desk, smiling that everything seemed perfect. "He's only seven mother, he's not going to be a shut in like his father, god knows I love him, but that man just seems to hate the light of day."

... 4 weeks earlier….

Stiles had taken to wandering around Beacon Hills. What else was there for him to do, the end had come and arrived, it wasn't over in an instant like some thought it would be, witches and hunters that hadn't been killed in the first wave, were still fighting, and others the "cattle" had joined in the fight too. Derek was always out helping with keeping Beacon Hills a no hunter and witch free zone. Stiles could ask him to stop, but it seemed every time he had shown his displeasure on anything, someone in the Sheriff's department was hurt, or there had been another massacre at the station.

Not to mention that Parrish was now a deputy, which had Stiles all but screaming that blackmail wasn't the way to go to make someone like you.

So it was either play nice or watch the Sheriff's department go up in flames. At least he had been allowed to occasionally visit his father, even if Derek had to be there.

To those who had no idea what was happening, it just seemed like a war zone of riots, suicides, epidemics, natural disasters and murders had invaded even the quietest of towns. It was all over the news, seemed that every day it was just getting worse. But life continued on as normal, and that was worth something, so what else could one do as they waited but window shop?

"You're from the book?" Stiles turned in confusion; there was a young man in a too large jacket staring at him.

"Excuse me?" Stiles asked, already aware that the coloring of the man eyes gave him away he was either of witches or hunter blood, now cursed with madness.

"Did you read the book, you're in it?" the younger man repeated moving closer, revealing a dagger just peaking out of his sleeve. "Did you enjoy it?" Stiles just stared at him, before glancing at something just behind the young man.

" You read the book, so this shouldn't surprise you." the young man turned, and just like Stiles stared as Derek Hale, just returned from being officially missing and was supposed to be laying low, shed his skin and attacked.

Stiles wasn't above screaming with the others outside the book store as a young man was torn into shreds before him by a hell hound.

…

People had scattered leaving only Stiles, a corpse and a now dirty at least human Derek.

"Really, you had to eat him, not just knock him out or something?" Derek only ignored his question and went about checking Stiles for any injuries, "I'm fine, I can protect myself, but what am I going to tell my dad!" he was still ignored as Derek now assured that he was safe pulled him closer till he was able to just rest his head on his shoulder and breath him in. "You're all bloody."

"I told you to stay home." Derek hissed. Like this was his entire fault, because he wasn't the one who had been all messenger to the end of times. "It's not safe here yet, we should just go back to Oak Creek, it's safer for you there, and you do like the Inn."

Stiles frowned. "I can take care of myself, and you are going to fix this!" He didn't know what annoyed him more Derek's sigh or the fact that he was being lifted like a toddler so Derek could feel better. "You should call your mom, before my Dad gets here and shoots you again. He's been getting really good at his quick draw."

... Present Time...

The lights were still flickering off and on.

Five to ten minutes between each power surge, the electrical storm outside was getting worse. The patients screaming had lessened, but he had heard the nurses walking past earlier delivering medication and skipping Derek's cell due to higher orders. Deaton was staring at Derek in shock, he had hoped that he would be able to help his colleges' son, but the more he heard the less it seemed he could.

"Derek, …I know that the mind tries to rationalize everything. To put it together in a way that's easier for us to understand." Deaton paused trying to find the right words. "But those books are just books; there are no monsters, witches or hunters. It's just a story and you felt….close to some of those characters in the books, you could relate to their troubled past but it's not real, they're not real, their just characters from those books."

Derek didn't look at him, but he let out a laugh, a sharp mockery of a laugh, but Deaton needed him talking.

"Why, you won't believe me. But I can show you." There was a darker note in voice, one that Deaton hadn't heard before. "I can make you believe me."

...

It was the sound of the roar that had the orderly looking up from his Vita.

And maybe the lights all going out at the same time as that roar, had been a part of it too. He had promised that he'd wait here, but patients weren't supposed to make that noise. Leaving his promised post, the orderly jogged to the cell he had escorted Doctor Deaton to.

The door was unlocked so when the orderly peeked his head in, yelling "Oh my god!" at the top of his lungs, seemed the correct response to a black hell hound the size of a small horse tearing into Doctor Deaton's throat with sharp and pointy teeth, using one claw pressed deep into the now decompressing chest cavity of said doctor.

"Oh my god! Derek! Really! This isn't getting help this is eating the help! Your mom is going to be so pissed!" Derek released Deaton's now mangled throat and wagged his tail at Stiles. "I can't even...you know what I am going to be sick outside, because really, this is just..I can't just...oh my god." Derek trotted up to him and nuzzled at his stomach smearing blood over his white scrubs. Then just leaned against him and let out a huff, like there wasn't a dead person there and blood being smeared everywhere.

Stiles let out a sigh and rubbed at the spot behind Derek's ear that made him just melt.

They could hear the sounds of others like them breaking in, Derek's kill had apparently been the sign they had been waiting for, Stiles only sighed. "I don't know how you can eat something that is looking at you, that was just talking to you." Derek response to that was just to let out another low rumble. "But thank you for trying, it meant a lot that you would try." the rumble only got louder. It was the only comforting sound Stiles could hear as the hell hounds and others tore into the place. This was a world without the protection of witches and hunters, a heaven on earth of and for their kind.

And Stiles hated it.

... 142 days later ...

The theater was empty, except for the one person sitting in the very front. Right now with the way things were, at least temporarily this was a self serve theater and the only occupant was taking full advantage of that, with a large over filled buttered popcorn with two large sodas on either side of himself.

The movie had already been set, the lights began dimming and the trailers began. It was supposed to be relaxing, but a late arriving occupant of the theater, who was rude to arrive just after the trailers had ended, sat himself right next to that once lone occupant, regardless of all the other open chairs, and then reached into the large sized popcorn.

"You are just really rude." Stiles hissed. "And late."

Derek just shrugged his shoulder before moving his arm to rest around Stiles irritated ones, Stiles made a hissing sound, since apparently Derek hadn't washed up for their movie date.

"Really Derek, you couldn't even put on clean clothes, is that witch on your shirt?!"

Derek leaned in closer pressing a kiss to the top of his mates head, this was nice, he could do dates even if the popcorn had way too much butter, and from the smell both sodas were more sugar than liquid. If this was what Stiles wanted he could do this, he would do this. Besides he had their take out draining out in the trunk, he just had to prepare it when they returned to the house. Stiles needed to learn to eat food that wasn't mixed in with other things to hide what it really was,he wasn't like the Sheriff, who was now declared an ally, because that was the right thing to do. It had nothing to do with Stiles threatening to take the Sheriff and leave, none at all. Laura was worried that Stiles was just going to starve before everything had settled, his mother was no better blaming Peter for not raising Stiles properly and expecting them to pick up his slack. Peter didn't even have a response, he had decided that after all was said and done he was staying in Oak Creek, claimed it was relaxing. That had set off some fights at the dinner table.

"Doesn't matter we know what's happens anyway." Derek rolled his eyes at the scandalized look Stiles shot him before returning to watch the screen. Leaning into Derek's side and making himself comfortable. They had agreed to make this work and he was going to try, and Derek had promised that he'd try harder to be more understanding.

"I like this." Stiles confessed, tilting his head to see Derek staring back down at him, he smiled. Something's never changed, his hound was a creeper.

"You're right of course it's about perspective." Derek whispered, the arm around Stiles tightened. Derek was tempted to add in that in his perspective, either Kate's or Paige's skin would have been better than Gemin's. At least it would have made their lives easier, but it was all about perspective, and they would make it in this new world together.

"It is." Stiles agreed, nuzzling into Derek's side. Thinking Derek did have a point, they knew how the book ended and the movie was going to be no different, so maybe an empty theater could be used for a different type of entertainment. He made a whining noise that had Derek all but throwing the popcorn on the floor and moving the divider to make what Stiles wanted easier.

The End


End file.
